Page 38

“Right,” he replied. “The mines were depleted some years ago. Those who could relocate did so, but many did not have the means. Since then, there has been much struggle. Several families struggle in particular because of a mining accident some years ago. Five miners were killed. The children number twelve between the two villages. I do what I can for them.”

She wasn’t quite sure why he was telling her all of this. Did he want her to think better of him? But that didn’t seem like him. He was not one to boast, and he seemed to have been as comfortable with his beastly reputation as she had been with her witch one. At the same time, she wondered if, just as she had embraced her peculiar reputation because it was the only way to deal with her situation, perhaps he likewise secretly despised his reputation and wished to be seen as something other than the Beast Duke.

“Meow,” Luna called again, and this time she did something Marina had not foreseen. She broke into a sprint and then leaped onto the dining table.

“Luna!” Marina exclaimed as the cat landed neatly between the dishes, her tail held high and her expression one of perfect satisfaction.

Ambrose stared at the animal, then at Marina, as though he could scarcely believe what he was witnessing.

“Is your cat,” he asked slowly, “standing on my dining table?”

“I am afraid she is.” Marina rose, attempting to conceal her amusement. “Luna, darling, come down.”

Luna ignored her and proceeded to inspect the contents of Ambrose’s plate.

“Good heavens,” he muttered, drawing his plate away from the inquisitive creature. “Does she make a habit of this?”

“Well, she has always been rather free to explore wherever she pleases.”

“Wherever she pleases?” His eyes returned to Marina. “Surely you do not mean to tell me she is accustomed to walking among your dinner?”

Marina hesitated. “She has occasionally taken an interest in what I am eating.”

“An interest?”

“She is a curious animal.”

“She is an unsanitary creature, at present.”

Marina pressed her lips together. “Your Grace, I hardly think⁠—”

“This will not do.”

Something in his tone made her straighten. Until that moment, she had been inclined to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Luna had always considered herself mistress of Marina’s cottage, and Marina had never found much reason to dispute the arrangement. But Ambrose was not laughing.

“I agreed that your cat might accompany you to Griffin Manor,” he continued. “I agreed that she might wander about the house, and I have no intention of withdrawing that permission. But I will not have her upon the dining table.”

“She is doing no harm.”

“Remove her, if you please.”

His voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the command beneath it. Marina felt an unexpected spark of indignation. She had answered to no one within her own home. She had arranged her days as she wished, eaten when she pleased, and allowed Luna to sleep wherever she found herself most comfortable. Now, on the very first evening of her marriage, her husband was issuing instructions about a cat.

“Surely she is doing no harm.”

“Take her out of the dining room. Now. I am willing to make accommodations for you, as I promised, but I do draw the line at a cat on the table.”

She wanted to argue but she also knew that he wasn’t entirely unreasonable. Harper did not like Luna on the table at mealtimes either, and her mother would have suffered apoplexy if she had seen this display. Still, it rankled her, especially after the otherwise pleasant dinner. Ambrose, it seemed, was not done with his speech yet either.

“You may indulge Luna in a hundred other ways, Marina. She may have a cushion before every hearth in the house, for all I care. She may terrorize the mice and glare at my servants. But she will not walk on the table where we take our meals. It is unhygienic, and I shall not pretend otherwise merely to avoid displeasing you. You are mistress of this house now, Marina, and I have every intention of respecting that. But marriage does not mean either of us must surrender every preference to the other.”

She could hardly argue with that. Indeed, she had insisted upon much the same principle when they had discussed her cottage and her work. Yet hearing it from him, and discovering that he meant to stand by it, left her strangely unsettled.

For a moment, she remembered his mouth on hers, the strength of his arms, and the tenderness that had so unexpectedly accompanied his desire. It seemed absurd that the same man who had made her feel so thoroughly wanted could now be standing before her with such infuriating composure, refusing to yield over an animal scarcely larger than a cushion.

“Very well,” she said at last.

Ambrose inclined his head. “Thank you.”